


There is thunder in our hearts, baby

by vertigo



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Court of Owls, Explicit Sexual Content, Jaytim secret santa 2017, Light BDSM, M/M, Murder Husbands, Prostitution, Talon Jason - Freeform, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertigo/pseuds/vertigo
Summary: “Tell me a bed time story.” Todd orders in a breathless whisper, as the nails keep digging and the cold lips touches Tim’s skin to chase away the warmth of it.





	There is thunder in our hearts, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueFlameBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFlameBird/gifts).



> Written for my secret santa, BlueFlameBird, Nikki I hope you get to enjoy it, and now you know _why_ it was so hard to write my secret santa, because it was for you, one of the most wonderful human beings I know and we trade so many plots that my head went through ...Basically all of them. Anyways I hope you enjoy it after many months of suffering ♥.
> 
> Betaed by smutfika, the remaining mistakes are mine.

Sometimes Tim wishes he could slap some sense into the members of the Court. Just the fact that every other night is spent watching them discuss trivialities on how to make Gotham better, all while some of them are getting drunk, makes him sick to his stomach. The Court is already a dying organization. Hadn't it been for the efficiency of one or two of the members and the Talons, they’d probably been neck deep in trouble.

 

Tim's clenched fist itches. He is impatiently awaiting an opportunity for it to be connected to the face of the younger Court member in front of him. His lack of height kinda gives him away, because Tim is well aware that behind that person’s mask, hides Damian Wayne. Add to that the useless voice modifiers that are unable to disguise Damian’s disgust and pride that lingers in his voice. And as of now, Damian proceeds to list all the reasons as of why Grayson is the best Talon, while all the other Talons, including Todd, should be relegated to a secondary position— that might hold some truth, as Grayson is one of the more __reliable__  and the second smarter Talon in court.

 

On his right side, the Courtmaster listens attentively to all of Damian's bragging. Tim has to hide the shiver of disgust as he reaches out for his own Talon, ready to rip off Damian’s head. But instead, he calms himself and grabs a firm hold of Todd’s wrist underneath the table.

“I’m sure your ideas are nothing but __brillian__ t, owl.” Tim says while putting on a fake smile behind his own white mask. “But I’m tired now. Can we continue this discussion at another time? Also, I’d like to hear your father’s opinion on the matter. I know we see eye to eye on Court matters.”

 

Tim instantly senses Damian’s disapproval showing off. He hears it in the aborted tutting about to come out of his mouth, sees the way Damian’s chest puffs up like a robin ready for fight. But he instantly deflates—which means he probably thought better of every insult he had ready. Instead, he simply nods their direction, settling for leaving with a silent Grayson in tow.

 

“I like the way you handled Damian, son. I knew I was right in choosing you.” The Courtmaster says as he lifts his right hand and lets it rest on Tim’s shoulder. It unsettles him. “Now go home and rest, you need it. Besides, your Talon looks like it needs a good night’s rest as well.”

 

Instinctively, Tim grabs an even firmer hold of Todd’s wrist, pulling him closer. He needs Todd to take a lead on the long corridor ahead of them, to find their way home before Tim starts killing off members of the Court.

 

“Of course, father.” Tim replies, his words having a grating, bitter sound to them as he bows down and kisses the ring on his father’s finger.

 

As soon as they are finished with formalities, they take their leave through his own private tunnels of the house. One of the many blessings of adulthood is having a whole apartment for himself, on top of the Court’s meeting place nonetheless. It is far away from the bowels of his father’s expensive house too, hidden off somewhere in very depths of Gotham. And to be honest, he feels more comfortable like that. He prefers to be sitting on top of sleeping Talons and ages of secrets; and its also way more practical as there is no need to create intricate routes.

 

They sit in silence on the elevator ride up. Once at the top, Tim types in a code and step right inside his cozy home. But a few minutes later, he finds himself with a very annoyed Talon perches on the kitchen island. Tim sighs for the umpteenth time. It just has to be one of __those nights__ , one where he can’t get past popping up a soda before he hears a subtle intake of breath.

 

“You should have let me kill both of them. The brat __and__  the old bird.” Todd says.

 

In response, Tim leaves the can of coke on the island in favor of reaching out for Todd's gloved hand. He kisses the golden knuckles with a gentleness that neither of them has ever seen any off the other Talons confirm to— but Todd __isn’t__ like the other mind controlled zombies. Not many Talons are so open about killing the Courtmaster, or any member of the Court for that matter. Once he is done kissing every golden covered finger, he removes his mask, taking care to do so slowly and leave the mask in a safe place over on top of the kitchen island.

 

“Not now, Todd.” Tim says calmly, staring into the lifeless lenses on his Talon’s cowl. “Since I can’t give you what you want, how about a good night’s rest, just like the Courtmaster suggested?”

 

“It might be the sanest order that old asshole has ever said.” Todd answers. Tim laughs in response, to which Todd can’t help but smile.

 

The blue veins on his face shifts elegantly as he watches Tim leave the coat of the suit on the kitchen floor. He’s pretty certain he’ll be the one fixing it later, but as for now, the Talon stays put on his perch. He watches Tim intensely as he removes every piece of clothes until there’s nothing left but skin and scars to show. Tim then leaves the living room, followed by his own Talon.

 

There are no light on in the loft, for he knows how sensitive Talons are, so living a life in the dark kinda became the new normal. It’s a whole new experience for him, __the bright future of the Court__ , to bare himself for a Talon, to trust that vengeful creature. To trust him so much to the point where he’s able to lay down on his bed, stretch his arms for him to tie up— and even moan when Todd wraps the rope around his wrists. He keeps his eyes closed, enjoying both the vulnerability and the trust that allows his Talon to move freely between his legs. Todd settle down and run the sharp tips of his golden gloves over Tim's thighs, leaving a trail of red welts behind. Tim shivers and fights the reflex of closing his legs whenever Todd digs in his metallic nails harder, bruising the skin.

 

“Tell me a bed time story.” Todd orders in a breathless whisper, as the nails keep digging and the cold lips touches Tim’s skin to chase away the warmth of it.

 

“It was obsession at first sight.” Tim starts, his eyes still closed when Todd places his legs over the shoulder pads of his armor. “I was going to a Court meeting when I saw you, on the corner of the RH Kane Building.”

 

Todd slowly lowers himself, proudly kissing the red welts he’s created. He proceeds to press new lines over the old scars as Tim continues talking through shaking breaths.

 

“You were wearing the tightest pair of jeans I’d ever seen, ripped at the knees... Converse... Hm.” The words die in Tim’s throat as Todd folds him in half and kisses the back of his thighs. He feels himself getting harder, the tingling sensation of cold lips against his skin making him curl his fists around the sturdy rope connecting his bounded wrists to the headboard. “And this cute white shirt. There was nothing about you to dislike: blue eyes, black hair, a white lock and that Jame-Dean-smile. My fath— the courtmaster said I shouldn’t look...”

 

Another breathless pause, and as Tim opens his eyes he is met with golden irises staring right back at him from between his legs. “But I couldn’t look away. I can __never__  look away from you. I was hooked. Hooked the second I lay my eyes on you. A simple street hooker.”

 

The Talon holds his stare for a second, the tip of the gauntlets digging into the skin where his thighs meets his ass. Tim is unable to look away from the golden eyes and the hint of blue near the pupils— the preserved beauty of the boy he met on the street corner. He remembers his skin being a little more tan back then, more than the now marble-like, blue cracks on his face, but overall he still looks the same. He still wears the same look with his wild locks of hair, the same wicked smile that got to him in the first place.

 

“How come you never told me this story?” Todd asks.

 

“I was saving the best for last.” Tim replies, smiling softly as he stretches his back, trying in vain to reach for the soft lock of white hair falling elegantly between his Talon’s eyes.

 

Todd groans something unintelligible, but he knows its good when the thumbs of the gauntlet dig even deeper and he leans in to kiss the back of Tim's thighs again.

 

“When I was eighteen.... I asked my driver to take me to your corner. You were there.” He has to close his eyes to savor the moment as Todd presses kisses onto his skin, all the way down until he reaches Tim's perineum. The story comes to a halt in a small moan. “One of the girls pulled up to my window...And no, I didn’t want anyone but you.” Tim has to stop for another intake of breath when he feels the first swipe of a tongue over his hole, his fists fighting uselessly against the bonds. His legs try to close for a moment, but the gauntlets dig in deeper, keeping him in place where __his Talon__  wants it. “I... I only wanted you and your skinny jeans. I was so nervous when you got into the limo.” He hesitates again when Todd starts lapping his hole, both of his thumbs keeping his ass spread as Tim pulls the ropes holding him in place.

 

“Don’t stop.” Todd orders. Tim swallows deeply as Todd goes back to rim him, holding his trembling legs spread open.

 

 

“It was my first time...I...I couldn’t get hard because I was nervous.” Tim laughs, and feels Todd echoing the action, which makes him tremble even more with the vibrations. “You smiled and said you’d make me feel good. You laid me down on the back of the limo and started biting my neck, rut against me.” He feels another set of vibrations as Todd moans against his hole and stops for another intake of breath when his tongue gets past the tight ring of muscles. “It felt so good to have you doing that, I got hard in no time. You opened my pants and sucked me off so good I...” He moans again, getting lost in the sensation of a lukewarm tongue inside him before Todd lifts his head again. “I started going for you. Every day I could.... Soon I learned things about you no one knew.” He stops completely in favor of rubbing the red welts and looking Tim in the eye as he laid down every deep secret from his past.

 

“We started living together. You and I. I was paying for your school. I was so in love with you. I knew your favorite books. We’d even watch your favorite TV shows together.”

 

They both stop for another intake of breath, before Todd proceeds to remove his belt and lower his pants enough to reveal his hard cock. He reaches out for the bedside table, grabs the bottle of lube and begins to coat himself in it, all while Tim keeps on ranting.

 

“You completed me. You were so gentle. You showed me that a life outside the Court was possible. You’d lay down in bed and kiss me good night.”

 

Todd seems satisfied with his job. He holds one of Tim’s legs apart with golden-clad fingers, creating yet another break in the skin.

 

“Then I left for a job outside town for three days and when I came back, you were gone.” Tim stops, feeling the slow push of Todd’s cock breaching in. He forces his muscles to relax, which makes him go silent for a moment. Then, Todd enters him, and Tim truly enjoys the first seconds of pain as the cock inside of him slowly slides to the hilt and the Talon’s hips are flush against him. “The Courtmaster thought it was a disgrace. So he turned you into a Talon, because if I was to have you - a filthy street hooker – then it should be as a Talon.” Todd pulls back slowly, until the cockhead inside Tim is all that’s left and pushes back in at the same pace until he finds Tim's prostate. Tim moans harder, his brain losing the thread it was following for a moment, and he moans louder. Todd doesn't stop,  instead he uses his leisure pace to keep Tim from talking for a minute— even though it felt good to relive those moments, to hear the full story he always had wanted to know, all while pleasuring the man beneath him.

 

“Good thing you weren’t like the other Talons. You were ruthless. You killed Court members whenever you had reason to. You pushed me against a wall with a knife against my neck. And I was gone for you all over again.” Tim whimpers, panting, as Todd pushes harder now, pressing into his prostate with each precise thrust, making his cock leave a trail of precum over his stomach. “You became a fighter, you were my only ally. You brought me to bed and cut me up to stitch me back up. I...Hmm.. Come here.”

 

Todd moves on over and drapes himself over Tim, and as he does, he ends up sliding even further, making Tim moan before he reaches out to rub their lips together.

 

“You were always the light guiding me. No one will ever pull us apart. Not life. Not the Court.” He looks up, tracing the small veins on Todd’s face, the blue still mingling with the yellow over his eyes. There’s nothing there that he doesn’t like -the welts on his body, the cuts his gauntlets made, the knots tying up his hands, the cold knives and the uniform pressing against him.

 

“I love you, Jason.”

 

The Talon lets out a painful moan, his face falling against Tim’s neck as the memories comes rushing back to him— the name is both a blessing and a curse, a key opening all the memories, all the times on the street and all the smiles that a younger Tim gave him.

 

And all the pain. The Court doctor’s face. The Courtmaster laughing at him. The first owl to reach out for him, with trembling fingers tracing the veins on his face before he grabbed his wrist and broke it.

 

“Jason.” Tim repeats with a smile on his face, moving his hips and fucking himself on the Talon’s cock. “Jason.” He says the name again, and Jason can hear the echos of his past life coming back to him. Tim’s laughter and the breathless moans. Jason starts moving his hips to the same rhythm of Tim, his lips searching for Tim’s in a frantic movement as the man underneath him lets go of all the tension and, finally, seems to truly enjoy the snapping of their hips.

 

“Jason.”

 

Tim tastes like candy, like blood and __love__. And Jason is gone for him too, as he forces his hips to make his cock brush against Tim’s prostate with every stoke.

 

He watches intensely as Tim throws his head back, his arms pulling the rope he’s been holding onto, and his name falls for the last time from Tim’s lips with a moan. He feels the warmth of the cum, all the way through his clothes. Tim’s lips still searches for his when he starts to move his hips with more force, chasing his orgasm as Tim contracts around him and shivers with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Jason feels him coming again, dry this time, together with him. His body finally goes lax, and he falls on top of the smaller man.

 

They take a minute to regain their breaths. When its over, Jason is back, kissing Tim all over as he undoes the knots on his wrists. “Jason,” Tim says like a mantra, his hands shooting to frame the Talon’s face. Tim’s pupils are huge, only a ring of blue remaining, and his cheeks are pink, flushed with the satisfaction of their night. “They took you away from me, Jason. They... I promise you, they’ll pay.”

 

Jason smiles, gets up from the bed and removes his clothes. The white marbled skin glows against the faint light from the street lights. And Tim can only observe him in amusement he goes back to bed, worm his way back into Tim’s arms with a faint smile.

 

“They’re the Court, Tim.” Jason says simply, because that’s the fact, taking down the Court takes more than a lump of rage and the will to do it. But Tim is calm, cuddling more into Jason’s body with the same faint smile. And he accepts the embrace for the night and awaits for the morning to come, and it comes with a handful of clothes to be shucked down on the hamper, a grumpy Tim cuddling up to him and a doorbell ringing while the young owl takes his second cup of coffee; he makes a motion to hide, but Tim pushes him back to the sofa and opens the doorway to two well dressed detectives.

 

Jason has to fight the urge not to let his chin drop when Grayson— the best of the best Talons, walks into their living room, covered in make up to hide the same marble-like lines on his face.

 

“Mr. Drake,” The Talon starts— and it’s more than Jason ever heard him saying in the history of ever. “Your father was shot this morning,” Tim lets out a fake whisper of surprise, and holds Jason’s hand with delicate fingers. “he’s in the hospital right now, do you have any idea of anyone who would hold a grudge against him?”

 

Tim shakes his head, seeking shelter under Jason’s arm. “I have no idea, officer Grayson.”


End file.
